The House of Waits
by Imogen74
Summary: John & Sherlock take on a new case brought to them by a sweet old lady.
1. Chapter 1

And so it was, for some time henceforth, that the couple was quite happy. Love suited the pair. Inas took to writing sonnets, Sherlock to cooking. It surprised him how much he enjoyed the activity, especially since he had fought against it for so very long. Her wordplay was an amusing distraction from the epic poems she would usually compose. And though they would never be classified as "love poems", they had a distinctly more sentimental tone that resonated well with her audience. She went on readings, had a book published, & was generally accepted as the poet of the moment. Awards became a monthly affair, & while she seldom asked Sherlock to accompany her to any ceremony, he nearly always did in a show of solidarity & good will toward his partner. Both believed that Sherlock would've minded a great deal more her fame, but it appeared that he couldn't be less annoyed or jealous. Even John Watson was perplexed at the detectives maturation. Surely he couldn't have changed that much. Surely the sulking man child still lurked beneath that facade.  
"I have no problem with the accolades Inas receives. She deserves them. Her talent is striking."  
"What do you know about it, you great git? You wouldn't know a poem if it were mixing a remedy for any number of the ailments you research. Have you even read her stuff?" John was most assuredly doubtful.  
"I've been living with her for nearly three years. More than half of which as her..."  
"Her what...?" John waited anxiously.  
He cleared his throat. "Lover."  
John smiled. He still wouldn't say "girlfriend." "And? You've read them, then?"  
"Of course. Not everything. But I know her style, her subjects. I understand her motivation. And I know she deserves the attention she is receiving."  
John seemed pleased. Ok. Perhaps he had underestimated his friend. It seemed to be a pattern as of late. John Watson didn't like it.  
"So, when will you ask her, then?"  
Sherlock had been reading the Times. Inas was at her publisher's for a meeting. They had no case on, which was a change of pace, since it was the first time in over a month that the partners were without business distraction. Mary had mistakenly thought that her husband would remain at home with her until Sherlock texted. Though the couple had been married just over a year, the honeymoon was hardly over.  
"Ask who what?" Sherlock didn't look at his friend. He hadn't the faintest idea what he was on about, no doubt something of inane importance. He'd rather enjoy his paper & coffee without the irksome nuisance of the New Scotland Yard impeding his work. The cases as of late had the misfortune of meddlesome newcomers mistakingly believing that they could control the detective. Thrice now he had called in Lestrade to set them right, since he was enjoying Molly time, & had taken an extended vacation. Almost.  
"Ask Inas to marry you. Sheesh."  
Sherlock put the paper down. "John. Surely you know me well enough to understand that marriage will never be something I willingly seek out for myself."  
"Right. Neither was a lover, or girlfriend. Or domestic partner."  
Sherlock saw that retort coming. "No, you're right. But it isn't only I that wishes things to remain as they are. Inas has no desire to enter into such an agreement."  
"You've spoken with her about it?"  
"Well, indirectly."  
John nodded. That was a "no." Every woman wanted to get married, this much he knew. If Sherlock didn't pop the question soon, he'd be minus one domestic partner.


	2. Chapter 2

Inas had prepared dinner that evening. Seafood pasta, garlic bread, salad. Though Sherlock could never be referred to as a big eater, when he was without business occupation, he was known to eat a healthy portion of whatever was laid before him.  
He tucked in, & was reminded of the conversation he & John had had earlier.  
"John can be so tiresome."  
Inas had finished pouring out the wine. "What do you mean? He's delightful."  
"To you, perhaps. But he is truly exasperating when he is attempting to make some silly point that he believes to be right about."  
"What was the disagreement about?"  
"Marriage."  
Inas looked up at Sherlock. Surely everything was still fine in the Watson household. "Is everything ok? Between John & Mary?"  
"Yes of course. Why do you ask?"  
"Well...you indicated that you were discussing marriage..."  
"Between you & I."  
Inas choked on her wine in a most undignified manner. She got up immediately to fetch some water, gasping for air.  
Sherlock sat & smiled at her.  
"I'm fine...really...don't trouble yourself...just choking to death..."  
"I knew you were fine, which is why I haven't moved."  
She wasn't amused. Returning to her seat, she glared at him. "You could have at least feigned concern," she said, sipping the water.  
"You would've seen right through that, love. I would never insult you in such a heinous way."  
Ignoring his last statement, she inquired, "Why? Why on earth would he broach such a subject?" Inas appeared at a loss, & had quite forgotten her dinner. Then she thought of something. "Surely not." She was looking at him crookedly.  
"What?" Sherlock was in the middle of a bite. He hadn't really heard what she had said, but noticed her change in tone.  
"Have you been putting these thoughts into his head?"  
"How dare you suggest such a thing! I am shocked. Mycroft could not have done a better job at point missing."  
She smiled. "Well, I'm not certain whether I should be pleased or not."  
"For your particular information, Mycroft hardly ever successfully insults me. He's amusing in his own right, but not beyond."  
"So, why then? Why were John & yourself discussing our impending nuptials?"  
"No idea. You can't expect me to understand the tiresome workings of a matchmaker. John Watson gets bored, & this is what he does..."  
"And as I understand, you get bored & shoot the wall."  
"Just so." Sherlock nodded. "His methods are infinitely more dangerous & irksome."


	3. Chapter 3

When the lady decided it was time to visit a detective, it was raining in London. This was an ill omen. Her hands shook, she was painfully superstitious, & she was required then to wear various bits of jewelry & carry her brown handbag to make certain that nothing bad happened to her.  
She rang the bell at 221B Baker Street. Checked the address for the third time since she left her home, & waited.  
A lovely old woman answered, & the lady was directed toward the upstairs flat.

Sherlock Holmes was reading some ridiculous volume from the shelves in the sitting room. He had heard Mrs. Hudson direct someone upstairs. He turned & was slightly surprised at what he saw.  
An older lady, probably in her 60s, was standing nervously in his doorway. She was wringing her hands around a very old brown handbag, her grey hair was disheveled. Her frock was tattered. Her raincoat at least 20 years old. No pets. Sherlock stood.  
He walked over to the lady. "Hello. Sherlock Holmes." He extended his hand.  
"Rose Waits." Miss Waits shook his hand.  
"I'm sorry to say that you find me all alone this morning. My business partner isn't due back until later this afternoon. How can I help you?" He felt a pang of pity for her, & directed her to the pair of chairs.  
"Sherlock, I need to get to McCoy's office in less than an hour." Inas's voice played out from down the hall. "While you were undressing me last night, did you happen to notice the necklace I was wearing? I mean, I realize jewelry wasn't on your mind in particular..."  
"Inas! I have a client here!"  
She hurried out from the bedroom, & noticed a smile carved into Sherlock's face, as well as an elderly woman sitting opposite him.  
"Oh! I'm so...so sorry..." She stood in front of Ms. Waits. "Inas Inverness. Pleased to make your acquaintance." She too shook the lady's hand.  
"Right. Thank you. How can I help you?" Sherlock was being very gentle & deliberate in his speech, & Inas took notice.  
"Well, Mr. Holmes, Miss Inverness, I believe I'm going mad."  
Sherlock sighed. Dull.  
"Things keep going missing from my home. I keep hearing things from my upstairs. I live alone, I always have. But now...I think I'm...not quite alone. I've come to you before they chuck me in a mental home."  
Inas was moved. "I'm so sorry Ms. Waits. Can I get you some tea?"  
"Oh, thank you yes. That'd be lovely."  
"Ms. Waits, when was the last time you had your heating system looked at?"  
"Well, a few years now. But it's not that old. And I use mostly the fire."  
Ok.  
"Do you have traps out for rodents?"  
"Always. Drafty old home, you know. I'm allergic to cats."  
Quite.  
Inas handed her the tea. "Sherlock can help you. I'm certain he'll have it sorted in 24 hours or less." She smiled at the lady, who returned it. Sherlock was less than amused. Inas's smile dropped.  
"Thank you Mr. Holmes. Here's my address." She handed him a piece of paper. "Thank you so much. And for the tea, too. I'll see you tomorrow morning, I suppose?"  
Sherlock smiled at her. "Yes. Tomorrow morning."  
Rose Waits left, shuffling down the stairs.  
"What?" Inas was perplexed.  
Sherlock was incredulous. "What, you ask? I wasn't about to take that case. What a waste of my brain."  
"Really, Sherlock. Do something nice for once."  
"I am not nice, hence I don't do nice things." How painfully obvious, & yet, he needs to constantly remind her of these simple facts about him.


	4. Chapter 4

The rain was approaching ridiculous. Sherlock & John had made it to the other side of town in almost two hours time, the London traffic was so bad.  
"Pouting at your age is really preposterous." John was watching his friend as he stared out of the window.  
"I'm not pouting. I'm thinking."  
"About?"  
"John, it would take considerable time to fill you in on the many workings of my mind. I cannot be bothered to engage in such banal activity."  
The doctor rolled his eyes & sighed.

The house was quite old & large for London, & almost tucked away. The duo approached it & Sherlock rang the bell. It took Ms. Waits a few minutes to finally answer.  
"Good morning," said the lady.  
"Mrs. Waits. This is my partner, John Watson." They entered the house.  
"Dreadful weather. I wish it would stop raining." Rose was wringing her hands.  
"I believe they said it would clear up in a day or two," John was soothing her mind. Sherlock was already upstairs.  
As he thought, there was nothing amiss. He went back down the stairs in a hurried manner, passing John & Rose. He went into the kitchen & observed the back door. There were trace markings on the jam to suggest it had been opened with force, several times.  
He returned to the hall where Ms. Waits was still complaining to John.  
"Ms. Waits, do you ever forget your key?"  
"No. Not that I recall."  
"You have indicated that things have gone missing. What sorts of things?"  
"Well, food, mostly. Some bedclothes. And a lamp."  
"I see. How often do you hear these noises?"  
"I can't say. Every couple of days, maybe?"  
"Have you heard them today?"  
A look of terror passed over her face. "Yes..."  
"Good. John & I will be back tomorrow to finish up the job."

"Solved it?"  
"Obviously."  
"Is it a secret?"  
"What?"  
"The answer."  
"You'll see tomorrow."

Sherlock's coat was drenched from the trip exiting the cab to the front door of his flat. He hurried upstairs to undress. Inas was at his laptop typing, & started at his entry. She hurriedly closed the computer.  
"You're back rather quick."  
"Open & shut case, much like you were just doing. Why, may I ask, were you at my laptop?"  
"Oh...well, just writing you know."  
"Really? You shut it down awfully quickly."  
"You startled me."  
Sherlock came over to Inas. He opened the laptop. Nothing peculiar. He'll check the history later. It wasn't that he mistrusted her as much as he was curious at her odd behavior.  
"You're soaked."  
"It's raining."  
"I'll fetch a towel."  
She left him there a moment while he undressed. When she returned, she was fully naked too.  
"What's this?" He was eyeing her.  
"Well, I thought I might join you. We can see what happens..." And she handed him the towel.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock & John walked into Ms. Waits's house, having asked her to vacate for an hour. They went into the basement & sat on the stairs.  
"When do you plan on filling me in on what's going on?"  
"We are waiting for the homeless person to do their grocery shopping."  
"What?"  
"That's what's going on. Silly really. Ms. Waits could've contacted the police. Even they should have been able to solve it."

Inas was reading another email posted to The Science of Deduction's website. This was the third in two days that concerned her. Threatening in tone, a bit psychotic. She felt ever so slightly guilty that she was nosing around his laptop. Inas had discovered it on accident. She had meant to simply jot down a few ideas & send an email, & since Sherlock's laptop was open & unlocked, & she was sitting right next to it, she decided it would be silly for her not to. She hadn't told him of the other emails, figuring that this wasn't out of the ordinary. However, after reading a few more, discovered that yes, in fact, it was odd for him to receive such correspondence. It was time to tell him. She had only waited so long because she was embarrassed at having used his computer, & didn't wish to worry him.

"Yes, but why a lamp? Ed Morris certainly didn't need a lamp, he hadn't a home."  
"Don't ask me, John. Haven't the faintest. He wanted the lamp."  
Ed Morris had taken refuge from the deluge in Ms. Waits basement. She was changing the locks presently.  
"Solved it, then?" Inas was smiling at the pair as they entered the flat.  
"Of course. So silly. But the thing to keep in mind is that I satisfied your pity." Sherlock was going into the kitchen, ignoring the gentle smile of his domestic partner.  
"Sherlock, we need to talk."  
"Ok...then. I'll be off. Sherlock? I'll see you..." John Watson recognized the tone. Anyone that ever had a girlfriend/lover/domestic partner would have.  
"No no, John, stay. You'll want to hear this."  
"I don't think so," he replied. He already felt like he was too much in their business.  
Sherlock emerged from the kitchen. "What is it?"  
"I'd like both if you to read this." She went over to the laptop, & brought up the emails. John & Sherlock went over & read them.

"You think you're so clever. You think no one can see you. I see you, you bastard. Don't think for one second that you are an enigma. You'll be paying. Dearly. Watch it. It's close."

John cleared his throat. The other two were written in the same vein. "Well. That's pretty disturbing. Sherlock? What do you make of it?"  
The detective had read all three twice. "Why didn't you tell me about this yesterday?"  
"I...well...I wasn't certain this was an isolated event. And I felt badly...for using your computer."  
Sherlock looked at Inas. "Hm. At any rate, I should like to have this traced. See where the correspondence originated. I'll call Lestrade."


	6. Chapter 6

DI Lestrade loved Molly Hooper. For this reason, though he liked Sherlock Holmes, & some may say, liked him very much, he couldn't get passed the fact that his love was infatuated with the man. Still. Never mind that Sherlock had a "girlfriend."  
As a result, when he would hear from the detective, it always was his first inclination to grimace ever so slightly.  
"Lestrade, I've received a few threatening emails. I was wondering if you might be able to put someone on it. Someone not annoying, & preferably with a brain in their skull."  
The DI sighed. "You want a full-out investigation, or someone in IT to just have a look?"  
"Just a look. I'd like to know the place of origin."  
"Right. I'll have someone by in an hour or two." Lestrade hung up. His first day back in a fortnight, & Sherlock was demanding things. How tiresome.

Sherlock put his mobile down & closed the laptop.  
"Well, he'll be sending someone directly."  
"Right. Well, I suppose I'll head off. Mary's at work, maybe I can catch some crap telly."  
Sherlock turned to John, "Alert me immediately if you discover anything amiss. And call Mary, make sure she's alright."  
John smiled at his friend. "Ok, Sherlock. But I'm pretty sure these things are directed toward you. You have a knack for pissing people off." He left the flat.  
"Fancy a drink?" Inas desperately wanted one. She was all nerves & her heart was pounding.  
"No. I'm fine." He eyed her. "You? You seem unwell."  
"I am. This...this sort of thing happen often? It's being taken in stride."  
"No. Not often, but unsurprising all the same."  
Inas rolled her eyes & went to pour herself some wine. Blast it. She loathed the fact that she was worried. To be expected, but still. Sherlock wasn't upset.  
When she returned from the kitchen, she noticed that he was still watching her, & hadn't moved.  
"What?" Inas disliked such intense attention.  
"You are lovely."  
"Pardon?"  
"Lovely. You. And it's heartening to see you so concerned."  
"Wonderful. Its been my intention all along to inflate your already enormous ego."  
He smiled. "I'm sincere." He took a step toward her. "It's testament to the fact that you care for me. I can't help it if I find it to be heartwarming. And all this time..." He was in from of her now, taking the wine from her hand & setting it down. "...everyone doubted the existence of my heart. Well, here it is, in plain sight."  
He cupped her face in his hands, & kissed her. He removed his hands from her face, & ran them down her side to her hip, drawing her closer. Inas returned in passion, kissing him hungrily, her worry manifesting itself in desperate intensity.  
She stopped. "They'll be here soon. I shouldn't like to be...in the middle of something when the detective arrives..." She panted her words.  
"We can be quick about it," Sherlock returned. He was kissing her neck & his voice was muffled.  
"Sherlock. Stop. This needs to be taken seriously. We can continue when they've gone." Inas pushed him away.  
He sighed. "Very well. Though it is exceedingly unfair. You doubt my ability to be quick about it."  
"No...I simply wish to relish it, & speed defeats that purpose," she smiled seductively.  
"Ah...I see."  
And the door was heard opening downstairs.


	7. Chapter 7

"Chiswick."  
"Chiswick?"  
"Looks like. That's where the trace says the origin of two of the three emails was. The first was from York..."  
Sherlock looked at Inas. Chiswick is where the Waits house stands. Strange.  
"Can you get an exact locale?"  
"I can get you an exact device. That's all."  
Sherlock & Inas waited while the detective from IT punched a few more commands into the computer.  
"Mobile device. Blackberry. Currently offline."  
"Thank you." Sherlock moved over toward the window. He ran his hand through his hair. Inas was watching him all the while. She turned to Mr. IT. "Thanks ever so much. So helpful." She shook his hand, saw him to the door.  
"What do you make of this?"  
"I think that my conclusion was incomplete. I think that Ms. Waits might have more than just a Mr. Morris hiding out in her basement. This isn't coincidence. There's more to this than is immediately apparent."  
Inas shivered internally. She longed for this to be over, yet it had only just begun. She feared some drawn out drama with Sherlock getting shot. Or John Watson falling off some rooftop. Or Sherlock...no. She wouldn't think about it. Her mind was racing. She went to her bag, realizing that she hadn't had a cigarette in some time.  
"So...what will you do, then?"  
He turned to her. "Well, I'll start with a cigarette."  
"You've quit. I cannot be a party to your promise breaking any longer. Either you smoke or you don't."  
"Come now. Don't be silly." He moved toward her & obtained a smoke.  
Inas glared at him. "It's not amusing, Sherlock. I'm not amused."  
"Clearly."  
"At any rate, what do you think is going on?"  
Sherlock's mind took off. "I have several ideas. Five, to be exact. But, I'd wager that at the very least, someone is playing a game with me & used Ms. Waits as bait."  
"Bait?"  
"Yes. They were counting on either yours or my pity," he looked at her knowingly, "to lure me over there. Something happened when I was there. I'll have to think about it very carefully. Reconstruct the events."  
Inas sat down, her brow furrowed. "What was John saying about a lamp?"  
He froze. Of course...the thing that didn't make sense.  
"It didn't fit. Didn't make sense as to why a homeless man would nick a lamp. I need to get to the Yard to examine it..."  
He was putting on his coat. Inas was watching him intently.  
"Sherlock?"  
"Hm? Don't wait for me. Eat, do whatever..."  
"No. I mean...be careful. I don't like this."  
He smiled at her. "Am I ever reckless?"  
She rolled her eyes. "Are you ever not, is more accurate."  
He turned & left the flat, texting John as he went.


	8. Chapter 8

Sherlock Holmes arrived at the Waits residence ahead of John. He had called her from the road, directing her to vacate. She was confused, scared, but compliant all the same. He had a sinking feeling about this, like Moriarty all over again. This time, however, Sherlock had Inas. This time, should someone interfere with his personal life, he had infinitely more to lose. His heart, as he had pointed out, was out on display for the world to observe. He hated this fact. He loathed that he had made himself vulnerable. He almost hated Inas for it. Almost.  
"Sherlock. What's going on?"  
"There's more here, John. The lamp that was stolen was made by a company called "Moran Antiques." It's a link to what's happening."  
"So...why are we here?"  
"I wish to look at the basement once more before I go back to the Yard to question Morris."  
They descended the stairs. Sherlock was eyeing everything with particular attention. Something that wouldn't be obviously linked to a homeless persons needs. He was examining the floor, the blanket. And then he spotted it.

"Look, Sherlock, I know that this is personal, but you need to check your temper."  
John Watson was hurrying along behind his friend. "He's upset because he missed something, Greg."  
Lestrade smiled. "You missed something? You?"  
Sherlock froze. "Look. Perhaps my ego got the best of me. But yes, something was overlooked initially. Perhaps I had an answer & went with it without fully capturing the entire scene." He looked at the two smiling smugly & rolled his eyes.  
"I need to savor this one." John looked over at Lestrade.  
"Yeah. Opportunities like this don't happen every day. I should call in Donovan. She needs to hear it."  
"Are you finished? Can I continue to Morris? Or should I inquire elsewhere?"  
"Yeah...but can I draw something up for you to sign?" Lestrade was laughing as Sherlock stalked away with long strides.

Ed Morris was a kind soul. When he met Sebastian Moran, he had no idea the type of person he was. All Moran wanted was a lamp from the old lady's house that he'd been hiding out in since London had become a sopping wet mess. Of course, now the deluge had stopped. Now he was arrested. He wrung his hands together in the holding cell. He heard the voices outside, & a shiver went up his spine. A deep voice, deeper than he recalled ever having heard before, was speaking with a tone of annoyance. Why Morris should feel at all ill at ease from the mere sound of a voice, he hardly knew. But he was about to find out.


	9. Chapter 9

The tall man in a Belstaff entered the room & sat opposite Mr. Morris. Neither struck a terribly imposing figure, but both appeared wary at the other's presence.  
"Whom are you working for?"  
"Huh?"  
"It would save everyone a considerable amount of time if you simply tell me whom you gave the lamp to."  
Ed Morris appeared nervous. He started wringing his hands once more. Sherlock noticed the similarity between this action & the way in which Rose Waits did the same.  
"I only know him as Moran. He didn't tell me anything, just to take the lamp."  
Sherlock studied him a moment.  
"Do you have any means of contacting him?"  
"No. He...he came to me."

Sherlock Holmes sat in his armchair at 221B. Inas was in the bedroom, & had been for a few hours. Someone must have information on Moran. He considered. He dismissed. He decided he needed to talk to Ms. Waits once more about it, & then he would act.  
"You appear in need of some nicotine."  
He looked up to see Inas standing there in a black dressing gown.  
"Indeed. Patches are really inadequate for this particular problem."  
She obtained them & gave one to him, lighting them both.  
"So. What have you come up with?" She sat in her chair opposite him.  
"Not much. Infuriating, really. I dearly hope that this Moran isn't setting up some silly game of cat & mouse."  
"Your ego demands it."  
"Excuse me?"  
"Your ego. It begs to be played with. You practically dare people to test you. Every time your photo appears in print. When John writes his blog. It's all fodder for psychos. So, now you've ensnared one."  
"This is my fault?"  
"Only indirectly."  
"Pardon me, Inas. I fail to see your point. You cannot really suggest that I desire this."  
"Oh, but I do. You desire it. You seek it. It's your drug. It's fine, really. It's rather adorable."  
"I am not adorable. I'm intensely brilliant & serene."  
"You're also ridiculous. And sooner or later, this game will turn even uglier than it already has done, & you'll lose something."  
"I don't lose."  
"No," Inas rose to her feet & put out the cigarette. "No. Not yet."

Rose had no idea what to make of the detective & the funny little man that trailed behind him in a constant struggle to keep up. They had asked her questions about her missing lamp, & how & what had driven her to come to them for help. She said she had seen an article in the Times. Did she get the paper delivered? No. She bought it, then? She thought so, but had no memory of it. It was on the table in the morning. And then they left. Rose was simply trying to avoid the doctors.

"So...you think Moran was trying to get your attention?"  
"Yes."  
"He was using the Waits house & Ed Morris to do this?"  
"It appears so."  
"Wouldn't it have just been easier to phone you?"  
"Yes. But it seems that Moran enjoys watching me run about..."  
He recalled the words of Jim Moriarty. Moran. He knew Moriarty. That was the link. Of course.  
"I need to get to the Yard."

"I want you to leave. I have a gun in the bedroom. Leave now. Everyone we know is in danger."  
Sherlock had just left Lestrade & John was on the phone with Mary. He was talking to Inas.  
"Sherlock?"  
"Yes?"  
Inas wanted to say a number of things, but none came to her lips.  
"Be careful."  
"Text me when you can. I'm coming back as soon as we wrap things up here, but you need to leave the flat. He's coming."


	10. Chapter 10

Inas hung up the phone. Her hands were shaking. She ran to the bedroom to retrieve Sherlock's gun & headed out the door. On foot, or a cab? Foot. If a cab is needed, it's easily obtained. It's London, for god sake.  
She walked hurriedly down Baker Street, glancing over her shoulder every so often. She couldn't go to a friends house, she was a moving target. Where to go, then? She checked her phone, then switched it off, concerned about a trace. Sherlock would later lament that decision. The iPhone went to sleep. How symbolic. But no, she won't think about it.  
At that moment she noticed someone behind her, & that someone was staring rather obviously at her movements. Shit. Should she run? No...make a quick turn. She turned. A rather busy street filled her vision. Ok. Blend in.  
Inas walked along the street, attempting to appear as inconspicuous as possible. In her black uniform, it wasn't impossible. Her mind fleetingly fixed on Sherlock, & where he was, & if he was coming...

"Did you tell her where to go?"  
"No. I told her to leave & to text when she was settled somewhere." Sherlock Holmes was staring out of the cab. He was exceedingly worried, but would not succumb to it. The only way to help Inas now was to remain calm & think. He hated that he put her in this danger. He hated that he wasn't able to see sooner what was going on. Moran had bested him, at least for the present, & Sherlock Holmes was never bested if he could help it.  
"Was that wise? How will we know where to go? Are we just going back to the flat? Are we gonna drive around town & wait?"  
"Inas isn't stupid, John. She'll act rationally."

She grabbed a cab, not noticing whether she was still being tailed. She didn't want to know. She thought of Sherlock, & where he was. She recalled the firearm in her coat pocket. Thankfully, she knew exactly how to use it.  
She told the cabbie Scotland Yard. It was the only place she could think of where she could get help & not put anyone at risk in danger.  
That's when he jumped in front of the cab, stopping its movement instantly. The cab hit Moran, though it wasn't a death strike. Inas screamed. She jumped from the interior & ran on foot.  
Along a darkened street, strangely devoid of any light, she ran along. Don't stop. Don't look back...  
A shot was heard. She felt it hit her in the back, & she crumpled to the ground. She was mercifully cast in shadow, so that when Moran approached her, he couldn't tell she was still conscious & pointing the gun directly at his head.


	11. Chapter 11

It hit him directly between the eyes. This time, he was dead. Inas sighed, & she felt the pain singe her insides. She knew she was bleeding, & she began to faint. Phone. Call someone. Her hand went toward her jacket pocket & she began to obtain the mobile. Damn. It's off. She pressed the on button, but she was too weak to exert enough pressure to turn it on. Inas closed her eyes to the black that enveloped her...

The scene was disturbing. All around there were shouts & yells people screaming that two others ran down an alley. The cabbie wasn't hurt, save a touch of whiplash. Sherlock & John had arrived in haste when they heard the sirens.  
Sherlock ran up to one of the observers. "Was there a woman? Did you see a woman here?" He was panicking.  
"Someone said they did...a couple of people ran down that way." He pointed in the direction Inas had run.  
Sherlock & John took off. They turned down one street. Nothing. "Back the other way John!"  
An alley. Down they went, oddly dark.  
"Oh god. Sherlock. Here. Here she is, & Moran."  
He didn't like the sound of this, he went over to where John was kneeling. If she's dead...  
"John...is she?"  
"No. I've got a pulse. Ring the ambulance. She's been shot."

They sat, very much as they had a few years ago, in the cafe of St Bart's, waiting for Inas to get out of surgery.  
"I wish they'd be more forthright. I detest having to dance around the issue."  
"If you were married, that wouldn't be a problem."  
"Pardon?"  
"If she was your wife, then they'd tell you everything. But you're not, so here you are. You'll just have to wait."  
Sherlock looked at John. How very slippery of him.  
"We are not getting married. Stop suggesting it."  
"Just stating the facts here. You're her...whatever you are. But it's not recognizable at a hospital, so you'll have to be patient."  
Sherlock sighed. He had no wish to be patient. He wished only to know if Inas would be alright. How many bullets could one body survive? How much punishment must she endure? And for the first time in his life, he wished he could've changed places with someone. He wished he was the one that had been shot, if only to spare her.


	12. Chapter 12

How pathetic. Here she was, once more, in hospital. Her side hurt so badly she could barely contain her wince at every movement, however insignificant. This was, most assuredly, more painful than when Michael had shot her three years previous. She detested her frailty. She longed for some strength to get her through this. She heard Sherlock's voice outside the room, & he sounded rather angry, though she couldn't make out specific words. He finally opened the door.  
"Ah. You are awake."  
"What were you on about out there?"  
"Ridiculous rules here. Never have I encountered such resistance."  
"I see."  
She smiled, & he sat next to her bed.  
"Inas...I'm very sorry."  
"What for?"  
"For...well. For not seeing this sooner. I'm afraid that I ran away with the simplest explanation. You must know that that's not how I generally operate. Not sure why..." His voice trailed off.  
"Perhaps it's me. Perhaps I'm too distracting."  
"Sorry?"  
"Well, I mean, perhaps you might've solved it sooner if I wasn't constantly there to distract you."  
Inas was playing a most unfair game, one that she had never played before. She was testing him.  
"Whatever do you mean?"  
"I mean...perhaps its time I moved out. I can settle in a nice flat nearby...let you get on with your work."  
Sherlock stared at her for a brief moment.  
"Inas. That is likely the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard escape your lips. Why on earth would you move? It's preposterous. And how do you propose that would quell my distraction? I'd be there, or you'd be at Baker Street, & there'd be an exorbitant amount of time traveling from one residence to the other. Silly, stupid notion. And what about Mrs. Hudson? I'm not going to talk to her incessantly about whatever the two of you go on about. You really are being quite selfish. I'm shocked."  
She smiled a very small smile at the speed in which he spoke. "Of course. It was just an idea."  
"Well, stop having stupid ideas & focus on bettering yourself. I'd like to have you home in a day or two." He kissed her gently on her mouth & left.  
Inas sat there, reflecting on what had just transpired. She fought her inclination to leave at that moment & either follow Sherlock or run away. Why must she always feel compelled to escape? Because she was a prisoner for so long? Did she feel trapped now? No. Not really. She simultaneously wished to be back at the flat, with him, playing her viola. Torn. Torn & shot. Lovely.


	13. Chapter 13

Sherlock Holmes was in love, make no mistake. He loved Inas Inverness as much as one person can love another. He loved her painfully, absolutely, unequivocally, almost irrationally. He understood the blatant narcissism his feelings suggested, but he was fine with that. He could tolerate so few people in life, himself among those few, that it really made perfect sense that he should be in love with someone like himself. He understood her so completely that it caused him disquiet when she had suggested she move out. He certainly didn't know what to make of it. This fact bothered for a second reason, for now twice in as many days he had been thwarted by another. John Watson would know what to make of it.  
He was ringing the bell to the Watson household impatiently.  
John answered the door sleepily.  
"Sherlock. What are you doing here?"  
"Hello John. I need to speak with you on some pressing concerns."  
John Watson's mind immediately thought of a few things, none of which he was terribly keen on discussing with his friend.  
"Ok. What's going on?"  
"Inas is behaving in a most troubling way. She suggested today that she move out. What do you make of that?"  
John's heart stopped a second. "Why would she say that?"  
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "That's rather why I'm here. I thought you might sort it for me."  
"Well...what exactly happened before she said...what she said?"  
" I had apologized."  
Johns mouth hung agape. "Oh. Really? Well...perhaps she believed you to be going mad & wanted as far away as possible."  
"Funny. Really. Can you please just explain this? I'm rather tired of, well, of point missing. I muffed up Moran, & now this."  
John looked at his friend. "Is that what you said to Inas? That you were muffing things up?"  
"I might've. Yes...I did make some reference. Why?"  
"Well, she was likely testing you, making you choose."  
"Between?"  
"Always being right & her. She thought you were drawing a link between you having made a mistake & being with her."  
"I did not make a mistake. I overlooked..."  
"Right. Well, whatever you did, it was not quite right."  
Damn. He was right. Sherlock ran his fingers through his hair. He walked over to the window. The view was considerably better than the last flat.  
"Ok. Is this something I need to concern myself further with?"  
"I dunno. I guess it depends."  
"On?"  
John smiled. "You two really should just get married. It would stop her mind from racing to wild conclusions. It would solidify your relationship."  
Sherlock heaved a very dramatic sigh. "John. I've told you. We aren't getting married."  
"Aright. Have it your way. Wanna stay for some dinner? Mary's making a roast."  
Sherlock started walking towards the door. "No. I'd rather not."  
"Mary's a fine cook. Don't be rude."  
He smiled & left. He honestly didn't know if John was correct in his hypothesis, but he was determined to talk about it with Inas when she was released from hospital.


	14. Chapter 14

The flat at 221B was quite clean. Sherlock himself had tidied it. He believed it was the least he could do to make Inas feel better about things. They walked in & she scanned the flat.  
"Well, someone has been busy."  
He smiled his response. "Yes, well, I thought it would be pleasant to come home to a tidy flat."  
He directed her toward the sofa.  
"What's going on, Sherlock?"  
"Going on?"  
"Yes. You seem out of sorts."  
Sherlock had wanted to get them drinks, talk about things they customarily talk about but didn't because she was hurt, & so on. But Inas had other ideas. Apparently, she wished to delve right into it. Blast.  
"Well...no. Not out of sorts, necessarily. However, I do have a thing or two on my mind."  
Inas waited. She had no desire to coax him.  
He got up. He began to pace & he ran his fingers through his hair.  
"Uh-oh."  
"What?"  
"That's never a good sign."  
"What's not a good sign?" And he ceased his pace.  
"You doing that. Pacing. Hand running through hair. It means you're nervous about something." She was pointing at him & looking rather smug, triumphant even.  
"That's hardly an astute deduction. Anyone with half a brain could tell I was uneasy about something."  
"Yes. But only those that know you well would be privy to the fact that you're hardly ever ruffled about anything, so this must be serious."  
He stared a moment at her.  
Inas spoke, "Do you wish for me to guess?" She smirked.  
He was suddenly at her feet, kneeling down, holding her hand, but not looking at her.  
"Inas, I'm not sure how to go about this. I haven't any experience with it...but, truth be known, I love you. I have loved you for quite a long, long time. I wish to make our current situation a permanent one. I wish for you & I to be forever joined legally." He looked up at her & saw, quite clearly, shock on her face. "What now? Did I muff this up, too?"  
Inas was shocked. She couldn't disguise it. "I...no. But, Sherlock, was that you proposing marriage?"  
"It was, yes."  
"But...why?"  
"Well, I thought it was obvious."  
"Uh. No. No, not really."  
He got up again & looked down at her with a look of frustration. "Because, as I said, I love you. So...isn't this the natural course of action?"  
"Is this John's doing?"  
"What?"  
"Have you been listening to the ramblings of John Watson?"  
"Well...he had suggested, numerous times, that you might...desire such an arrangement."  
Inas sighed & went to fetch her cigarettes. "I understand. You were seeking advice. But Sherlock," she turned back to face him, "I don't want to marry. Nor do you wish to get married. Think about what you're saying. Does it really make any difference if we have a piece of paper or not? I am wholly committed to you, no matter how many times I get shot."  
Sherlock appeared dumbfounded. He was certain John had been right. He had emphatically denied any wish to get married, but convinced himself that it was what Inas wanted, so he'd do it for her. He also thought that it would make things easier if they were married, practically speaking.  
"So, you're saying, you do not wish to enter into the marriage state?"  
"No."  
"No. No." He ran his hand through his hair again. "I suppose..."  
"Sherlock. Do you want to get married?" She put out her cigarette.  
"No. But I was so certain..."  
"Alright then..." And Inas went over to him. She took his hands. "I promise to love only you. I promise to take a bullet for you again & again. I promise that I am yours, mind, body & soul. I will tidy up after you willingly. I'll cook delicious meals when you happen to be eating. I'll quit smoking for you, for I know how difficult it is for you to have me smoke. I am yours, you are mine...sorry, didn't mean to quote a song. Does that make you feel better?"  
Sherlock Holmes was completely lost in thought, in Inas's deep grey eyes. So dark grey were they, that he fancied them almost black. He had never seen their equal.  
"I merely thought, it might be easier, for us to marry. I must admit however, that it might make you an easier target. I wouldn't wish to compromise you any further. You are quite right. This is best..."  
And Inas grabbed him & pulled him to her. They kissed passionately. Their arms & hands around one another in a tight embrace.  
"Do shut up Sherlock," she said when they paused. "Sometimes you really don't get it."


	15. Chapter 15

It was warm for May. Inas had opened the windows of the flat to create some air flow. It smelled wonderful. She looked out onto Baker Street & smiled at the view. Any minute now, Sherlock would be getting back from New Scotland Yard. Another case cracked. Her poetry notebook was lying on the sofa, her composition nearly complete for the new book she was readying for publication. She hadn't smoked a cigarette in almost a year, just before she discovered she was expecting a baby. She still wasn't used to the idea. The boy was due any day now, & they still hadn't settled on a name.  
Inas wasn't certain she was ready for all of this, but here it was. She & Sherlock had never married, so for all purposes, she was still the moon's wife. She noted to look up various culture's names for the moon. Perhaps it would inspire a name.  
Her round belly made it difficult to move about properly, & she wished for the child to be done so she could have her body back. And then she saw him, briskly walking down the street (curious he didn't get a cab). She smiled at the sight of him. She waited until she heard his footsteps running up to their flat before she turned.  
"Solved?"  
"Obviously. Ridiculous, how tiresome they can be."  
He went into the kitchen & began brewing decaf. He really couldn't wait until the child was born so he could resume his caffeine consumption.  
"Sherlock?"  
"Hm?"  
"Are you...happy?"  
He looked up at her. Why is she asking him this? He recalled John's words, "Shes pregnant, mate. Tread very very lightly. Try not to be too stupid."  
He walked over to her. "Inas. I've never been happier. Ok?"  
She smiled & nodded. And then it happened. A twitch. A slight cramp in her lower abdomen.  
"It's happening."  
"Happening?"  
"Yes."  
A look of slight panic overtook his countenance. "Right, lets get going then."  
"No...we've got some time yet. Lets sit here a while & decide on a name." She smiled. She knew that she had a few hours before he was born.  
And so it was, in the paleness of dusk, the pair searched for a name for their forthcoming son. All was so very right with the world.


End file.
